


So Happy Together

by SailorLestrade



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Creepy, M/M, Murder, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, TW: Blood, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorLestrade/pseuds/SailorLestrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the amazing duchesscloverly's video! Mycroft Holmes gets what he wants and he doesn't like to share it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Happy Together

**Author's Note:**

> You should check out her video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LpDrKATsAY

It had been a long day as Greg Lestrade stretched out on his couch. It wasn’t as nice as the ones he had seen at the Diogenes Club when Mycroft had summoned him, but it was his and it was comfortable. The house was quiet and Lestrade was enjoying the peace. He had dealt with the youngest Holmes brother and his sidekick for the entire morning, then just when he thought that he was going to get a chance to sit back and eat a doughnut, the elder one had him summoned.

“Damn Holmes boys.” Lestrade said, stretching to reach for the remote. “Let’s see if there’s a football game on or something.” His eyes caught a glance of him, his ex-wife, and his adorable little girl, back when they were happier. He sighed and turned on the TV.

He was about to doze off when he thought he heard the squeaking sound of the front door of the building open. The only other people who lived in this building was a young woman with an adorable little boy who was always just a little too loud, and an older couple who liked to bake cookies and take trips to Dover. But these footsteps didn’t sound familiar. They were too heavy.

“Hello?” Lestrade called. The creaking on the steps stopped. He set up and looked at his front door. Maybe he had left the door unlatched and the wind had gotten it. And this was an older building, so it was bound to make creepy noises. Yeah, that was it…

But, even though he was a cop, he still locked his door securely. He didn’t know that someone stood outside all night, watching his door.

****

The next day found Lestrade at a press conference with Donovan at his side and Sherlock lurking in the shadows, grinning like an evil genesis. He couldn’t even remember what it was about really, he was just going off the files that Donovan had spread out in front of them. His phone started to vibrate then.

“I swear to god Sherlock.” He grumbled, pulling it out. But when he noticed that no one else in the room was pulling out their phones as a mass text assaulted then, he knew it wasn’t the smug consulting detective. When he looked at the incoming call, he saw that it was the number for one Mycroft Holmes. Lestrade sighed.

“What is it?” Donovan asked when they had a break for the reporters to scribble down information.

“If it’s not one Holmes, it’s the other.” Lestrade grumbled as he press ignore and went back to the matter at hand.

****

“You’ve reached Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade’s phone. Sorry I can’t take the call right now…” Mycroft hung up then and looked down at his phone.

“He ignored me?” He asked himself. “He never ignores me. He always comes running when I call.” He looked at the time on his phone. “This must be my brothers doing.” His eyes got dark then as he clutched his phone and went back to his office.

****

Over the next few days, he watched Lestrade from the safety of his computer, following his every move as to find out why his calls were being ignored. He noticed that the inspector was running around with Sherlock more. John sometimes was there, but not often. Usually Lestrade saw John after hours though, over a pint. Mycroft’s cameras kept track of him.

Finally, he called one day while watching Lestrade and the cop finally picked up.

“Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Lestrade said, answering his phone. He looked like he was on his way to a crime scene but was stopping for a coffee and a snack.

“Hello Gregory.” Mycroft said, the words rolling off the tongue like pure silk. He could see Lestrade shiver a bit.

“Hello Mr. Holmes. How can I help you?” Lestrade said, looking around.

“I’ve been calling you.” Mycroft said. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been busy.” Lestrade explained. “Sherlock’s been on a case binge.”

“I see.” Mycroft growled slightly. “Well, I might have a case for you. Why don’t you come by today.” He heard the man sigh. “Problem?”

“No.” Lestrade said. “I’ll be there when I can. Donovan’s waiting for me. Have a good day Mr. Holmes.” He hung up then. Mycroft watched him pay for his items then head down the road.

****

Lestrade came by later that day and got the case that Mycroft had for him and quickly left without much small talk. Mycroft decided that maybe it was time to do some of that legwork that he despised.

****

He started showing up at crime scenes. Sherlock assumed that he was just there to annoy him. Lestrade started to feel a little uncomfortable. Mycroft kept showing up there without even knowing that the detective would be there. It made a shiver go down his back.

“What are you doing here Mycroft?” Sherlock asked finally, after deducing that he wasn’t the reason his brother was here.

“Some fresh air would do me some good.” Mycroft said, his gaze not on Sherlock. Sherlock followed it to Lestrade, who was standing with his back to them, arms crossed, talking to John.

“Leave poor Gavin alone.” Sherlock said. Mycroft looked back at him. The look his brother gave him scared even Sherlock.

“His name is Greg.” Mycroft hissed before departing in his black sedan. Sherlock looked back at Lestrade and John, John watching Sherlock, knowing something was off.

****

Christmas time rolled around and Sherlock was hosting another Christmas party at 221 B. John had forced him to extend an invitation to his brother, but Mycroft declined it. That was, until the surveillance in the flat caught a very handsome looking Lestrade flirting with a very beautiful Molly Hooper. She was wearing a low cut dress and batting her eyelashes every time he made a dumb joke or told her a story. Mycroft gritted his teeth as Mary jokingly pushed the two under mistletoe and Lestrade gently kissed Molly’s cheek, making her turn all kinds of shades of red and pink.

Mycroft decided then something had to be done.

****

He called Lestrade for lunch around New Years. He had the day off, so he was in a handsome sweater and jeans, something that Mycroft loved to see him in. Mycroft knew he wouldn’t come if he had picked a fancy restaurant. So he picked a little café in the middle of London. Lestrade put his jacket on the back of his chair and set across from Mycroft.

“What’s this about?” Lestrade asked. Mycroft smiled.

“I just want to talk.” Mycroft said. He drummed his fingers on the table.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you following me.” Lestrade said. “Or that your cameras are always following me or anything like that.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Mycroft said innocently. Lestrade rolled his eyes. He stood up.

“What do you want?” He asked. Mycroft smiled at him. Lestrade swore it was malicious. He grabbed is jacket and quickly departed before the waitress could even ask him what he wanted to drink.

****

Over the next few months, Mycroft kept his routine of following Lestrade. Even when Lestrade left for a week to go to Wales. He ran into John there. He was there for a medical conference. Mary was back in London, as was Sherlock. They ran into each other at a bar. Mycroft, who had been sitting in the corner in a disguise, watched them.

“Oh, hello John.” Lestrade said, raising a glass. John smiled at him and set down by him.

“You know, you’re just the man I’ve been needing.” John said. Mycroft heard nothing more. He didn’t hear that John’s dress shirt had been ruined by some experiment of Sherlock’s and he wasn’t sure how to fix it, and he knew that Lestrade’s mother had worked in a dry cleaners, so he was hoping for a home remedy. He tighten his hold on his newspaper, growling.

****

Mycroft was so blinded by his own rage that when he returned to London after Lestrade, he swore that everyone was flirting with the detective. His brother would cast an extra smile to him, John would buy an extra round, Mary would bake him cookies, and Molly Hooper. Dear sweet Molly Hooper took him for lunch and earned herself a kiss.

It was that night that Mycroft went to the morgue. Molly was the only one there, about ready to finish up for the day. She was at her locker, grabbing her stuff when the door swung open. She jumped and turned around. She saw Mycroft standing there, his hands behind his back.

“Oh, Mr. Holmes, you scared me.” She said, putting a hand on her chest.

“Terribly sorry Ms. Hooper.” He said, walking in. “Going home for the night?”

“Oh yeah.” She giggled. “I’ve been here all day, trying to stop Sherlock from taking pieces from everybody here.” He nodded and walked closer. “C-can I help you?” She asked, a little uneasy.

“What are your intentions with Gregory Lestrade?” He asked.

“My…intentions?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said. She stood there for a second, thinking about it.

“I…I dunno. I just like him. He’s nice.” She said, blushing. Mycroft nodded.

“Yes he is.” He said. Before Molly could say anything else, Mycroft moved his hands from behind his back, revealing a hammer that he had grabbed off a maintenance cart. Molly backed up.

“Mr. Holmes, what are you doing with that?” She asked. He just smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt me a bit.” With that, he started beating her with it, her loud screams dying down until there was nothing. He left the hammer laying on the floor, he had been thinking ahead and had been wearing gloves, and walked out, making sure that he didn’t leave any prints anywhere in the blood.

****

Next was John and Mary. John had just stepped out for the night to have some fresh air. Mary was inside, doing dishes. Mycroft walked up to John and before the man could even say hi, stuck a needle in his neck.

“My…” John groaned as the poison entered his blood stream and his body went limp. Mycroft caught him and dragged him inside.

“Hey John, can you hand me that towel?” Mary asked her hands deep in the water. When her husband didn’t respond, she called out again. “John?” She heard a creaking sound. She pulled her hands out of the water and looked around, her assassin mode coming into play.

“Hello Mrs. Watson.” A voice behind her said. She turned around just as a skillet she had been washing smashed into her head, knocking her down. Barely conscious, she looked to see the dead body of her husband by her. “Goodnight Mrs. Watson.” Mycroft laughed as he smacked her again, killing her.

****

Sherlock entered his flat quietly. He had been trying to call John all evening but the doctor had yet to pick up. He walked in and saw someone sitting in his chair. He knew exactly who it was without seeing their face.

“Get out of my chair Mycroft.” Sherlock said.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that brother.” Mycroft said. Sherlock turned on the light. He was greeted by his brother sitting there, covered in blood.

“What did you do?” Sherlock asked. Mycroft started to laugh.

“Something that had to be done.” He laughed hysterically. He stood up and pointed a gun at Sherlock. “He’s mine. Not yours. You guys can’t have him.” He laughed. Sherlock raised his hands. He never would’ve imagined in a million years his brother would do this to him.

“Who is?” Sherlock asked, eyes wide with fear. His brother was insane.

“Gregory is mine Sherlock.” Mycroft laughed. “I killed that wife of his, then I killed Molly Hooper and the Watson’s. You were all trying to take him away from me. But he’s mine.” He kept laughing. “All mine.”

“Mycroft, you need help.” Sherlock said. Mycroft kept laughing.

“All I need is him.” With that, he fired at his brother, hitting him right in the chest. Sherlock fell backwards, but this time, there was no one to call the ambulance for him.

****

Lestrade had received a call late that evening that his ex-wife and their daughter had been found drowned in the bathtub at their home. Lestrade, heartbroken over the loss of his only child, raced to Sherlock’s flat to get the detective to solve his case. All he found was the body of Sherlock Holmes lying in a pool of blood.

“Sherlock?” Lestrade asked, racing to him and placing his fingers on his neck, finding no pulse. “Oh god no.” Lestrade said, backing away from the body. Cops burst in then, guns drawn on Lestrade.

“You have the right to remain silent!” They screamed at him as they cuffed him.

“You have the wrong guy!” Lestrade cried out as he was dragged away. “I’m a cop! I just got here! You have the wrong guy! You have the wrong guy!”

****

Lestrade’s prints were on the bodies that had been found all over London that fateful night. Donavon couldn’t believe it. No one could. No one except Mycroft Holmes, who silently set in the back of the hearings.

“The court sentences you to spend the rest of your life in prison.” The judge announced. Lestrade set there, completely numb. Mycroft smiled.

“Good.” He whispered. He watched as Lestrade was escorted out of the court house to his new home.

****

Lestrade stood at the window of his cell, watching out the bars at the court yard where the other inmates were. He felt so cold, so numb. The lovely DI that once had a promising career was gone. Donavon, along with Anderson’s help, worked tirelessly to prove his innocence.

Lestrade turned away from the window and looked at the camera in the corner of the room. It was used by guards to make sure he was behaving, but he knew that someone else was watching. Someone who was so glad to have his precious man all alone where no one else could touch him.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? I hope I didn't botch it too much! Please review/kudos


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